Ed, Edd, 'n' Eddy IN SPACE!
by 42 Zombies
Summary: Three friends travel beyond the stars, not entirely of their own free will; a group of children on Earth fend off an alien invasion; and those same aliens try to market their latest product. This is a tale of space, heroes, and freedom. But mostly space.


_I do not own _Ed, Edd, and Eddy_… or space. I just thought I'd clear the air, there._

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"Welcome back to the Discovery Channel special, 'Space: It's Pretty Damned Sweet'."

The TV in Edd's living-room was at a quiet, considerate volume. Eddward 'Double D' Marian… um… let's say 'McCoy', had just finished his chores for the day. They had been the typical chores his parents left him: 'Mop floor; do laundry; throw away sticky notes'. When he had finished these minute jobs, he decided to sit back and watch the re-run of last night's documentary; at least until his friends called on him.

_"Early astronomers believed Saturn to be the most attractive planet. Today, Neptune is considered the sexiest. This goes back to an astronomer in the early 1900's attempting to woo Neptune through flowers and chocolates…"_

A loud, deep knocking on the front door silenced whatever the narrator (Macaulay Culkin, for some reason) was about to say. Sighing at the interruption, Edd muted the DVD and stood up from the freshly-dusted couch. He turned to open the door, but it was quickly burst open by his two old friends.

Ed clumsily shook the plaster from his head and stumbled forward, obviously dizzied from the strenuous activity he had just been a part of. Eddy, however, did not seem to have that problem; he simply stepped in through the hole where a door had once been and smiled his prize-winning smile at Edd.

"You done with your chores, or what?" Eddy asked feverishly. Double D rolled his eyes at his friend's childish attitude; despite the changes he had undergone during their trip a month ago, he was still as childish as… well, a child.

"I was just enjoying a documentary, actually," Double D explained with an excited smile. "I don't suppose you'd care to—"

"No." Eddy's answer was swift and brutal, like a rocket-powered baseball bat. Double D sighed at the unsurprising reply.

"We get to play Frisbee, Double D!" Ed exclaimed happily, jumping up and down at the idea of a flying, plastic disk.

Eddy nodded in confirmation. "Yeah," he said with a small smile, "a bunch of the other kids are going to play some weird game in the Cul-de-Sac; Rolf's idea."

Double D grew a pleased smile. "Well, I'd be happy to join you!" He exclaimed, quickly turning off the TV. Eddy gestured for his two friends to follow him out through the now-crumbling door left over from Ed's entrance.

And, as the trio stepped out onto the front porch, they all had the same thought: life was finally turning their way. The other kids accepted them; they were getting invited to hang out; and Kevin was actually sharing his excess jawbreakers with them. They were, at long last, part of the group.

Then, as they stepped off the front-porch, they had a new, radically different thought: 'Oh dear God, I'm being abducted by aliens.' Of course, given the situation, they only had a split-second to think it before they dematerialized.

* * *

MEANWHILE, not too far away, Kevin looked up at the sky worriedly. He thought he had seen something just above the clouds—possibly an orca whale. Then the thought struck him that it was ridiculous for an orca whale to be floating in the sky above Peach Creek. He decided, instead, that it was a humpback whale.

Of course, thoughts about aerial marine-life are fleeting, and the big-chinned jock turned his attention back to the game being set up. It was strange, to say the least. Then again, it was a game of Rolf's organizing, so it would have been stranger if it had been normal. However, if it was strange in being normal, then it would have been—

Kevin quickly went cross-eyed at the presentation of this paradox.

Attempting to find some way to restore normalcy, he decided to call out to his foreign friend. At the time, Rolf was setting up a large statue of an open-mouthed pig in the middle of the street. In the opinion of any decorator, it complimented the hoops made from meat that hung from the lampposts.

"Hey, Rolf!" Kevin yelled. The Son of a Shepherd turned to his friend and waved cheerfully.

"Yes, hello," He called back, his accent weighing heavy on every word. "The meat is dripping with joy, yes?"

"I wouldn't know," Kevin admitted, somewhat ashamed by his lack of meat-related knowledge. "Where'd you get all of this stuff, anyway?"

Rolf's single eyebrow lowered in a sign of mild irritation. "Rolf's nana swore her allegiance to the, as you call it, Order of the Monthly Flesh." Rolf calmly pointed to a ball made of meat that he had been beating into shape with a Frisbee. "This poor excuse for meat which Rolf mutilates is from that Order."

_Obviously,_ thought Kevin, _he means the Meat of the Month Club_. Of course, Kevin didn't bother to correct Rolf. Things got CRAZY when people corrected Rolf.

Of course, Kevin had to agree with Rolf's hatred of the Meat of the Month Club. Their food had been dropping in quality lately; not an easy feat for an organization that mails meat to people. It almost made Kevin wonder why his father kept their subscription.

But this wasn't the time for meat-thinking; it was a time for meat-action.. Of course, as soon as Kevin thought this, he swore to never use the words 'meat-action' again. He had no idea that one day he would be forced to break that promise…

* * *

"OKAY, where are we?" "I might be able to discern our location if you removed your foot from my face." "ALIENS WILL EAT OUR BRAINS IN A BREAKFAST TOSTADA!" "Oh, I'd like to see some green-skinned freaks try to eat my brain!" "As would I, Eddy; I'm sure they'd have something of a hard time."

Eddy stared in silence at Edd before kicking him in the face. This was difficult, considering the small, cramped space they were in. The three had been tightly packed into a steel… well, it was more like a crate than a room. Saying 'room' implied it was bigger than its inhabitants.

This was where they had materialized after being abducted. Perhaps their captors were more used to beaming-up smaller life-forms. Or perhaps they were just a bunch of assholes. Either way, the aliens had a lot of explaining to do.

"Why do you think we got sucked up here?" Eddy asked, his demeanor charming as always. Edd did his best to come up with a logical reason while he struggled with Ed's hand in his mouth.

"Well," he said, after spitting Ed's filthy hand out, "perhaps we were chosen as the most ordinary examples of the human species. It could be they simply want to learn more—"

"THEY WILL FRY YOUR BRAINS OVER-EASY!" Ed screamed, nearly popping the eardrums of his fellow prisoners. "WE WILL BE BRUNCH FOR THE EMPIRE OF FOODCOURTIA!"

Normally, Edd would have requested Ed to be more reasonable; however, as far as the young genius knew, the unibrow-wonder was right.

_"ATTENTION, HOOMANS…"_

The voice crackled over some unseen broadcasting system, filling the ears (In a rather painful manner) of the three prisoners. "Great. They're trying to make us freaking deaf." Eddy muttered disdainfully.

_"UGH… SORRY FOR ABDOOCTING YOO. WE DIDN'T KNOW ANY OTHER WAY TO GET YOO OOP HERE."_

"You could have simply asked." Edd pointed out. Useless, however; he had no idea if the voice's owner could even hear them.

_"UGH… CAPTAIN MONROE WANTS TO TALK TO YOO. IT'S ABOOT WHY WE ABDOOCTED YOO."_

Eddy muttered something about stupid Canadian aliens when a shrill alarm suddenly ripped through his ears. The three prisoners screamed as the alarm was accompanied by a hissing noise. If they had paid attention, they'd have noticed that the hissing was from the air being pumped into the cube. As the air left their prison, the four walls around them began to fall down—as if the room were deconstructing itself.

Finally, once the four walls had collapsed, the three friends found they were slumped on the floor of some foreign environment. It was an average-sized room, made entirely out of some dull metal. A series of tubes and pipes ran through the walls, steam hissing through them. Boxes and crates filled every empty nook and cranny.

It was a cargo bay, realized Edd. They had been abducted into a crate in a cargo bay. That would certainly explain the packaging peanuts Ed had been eating, but why the hell were they in a cargo bay?!

Perhaps the large, gun-wielding monster standing above them could answer that question.

It wore some sort of grey jumpsuit—clear tubes ran through its chest and arms, carrying some sort of green liquid through the creature's body. The only truly visible aspect was the head, if you could call it that.

It had dark-red skin with what looked like little black scabs coming up its neck. Two beaks, one above the other, sat about where its chin should have been. The most shocking aspect, however, was that the top of its head seemed split down the middle, giving it a Y-shaped appearance. Two eyes sat on both sides of its head, both pairs separated by the gap in the middle.

"Chhk." The creature sounded calmly, pointing its high-tech rifle at the three Ed's.

"… What'd it say?" Eddy asked, looking to Double D hopefully. Edd simply shrugged; alien language was not one of his strong-suits. Then again, it is a very difficult study to master.

"Chhk." The creature repeated, somewhat more urgently. It thrusted its rifle towards the three boys, its finger lying on the trigger. "Chhk!" It exclaimed angrily.

"Calm down, Y! They can't understand you!"

The voice seemed surprisingly human, which the three prisoners welcomed with a sigh of relief. The extraterrestrial gunman stepped aside as the sound of footsteps sounded off of the bay's metal floors. Soon, a figure rounded the corner and approached the three prisoners.

He wore a suit similar to the Y-head-alien's, although his was free of any tubes. He seemed human enough, save for the strange fact that he was completely bald. All of his hair—eyelashes and eyebrows included—was gone, to the point where he looked almost as alien as Y.

"My name is Captain Monroe," the man introduced, saluting the three children cordially. "Let me just say that it's an honor to meet you three."

"… Thanks?" Eddy replied cautiously. He stood up and dusted himself off, followed by his two comrades. The trio had no idea who they were dealing with—was he their stalker? Their _space_-stalker?

The man's eyes widened as he realized that the three Ed's had no idea what he was talking about. "Forgive me," he apologized frantically, saluting again, "I forgot that Earth-humans don't view time non-linearly."

Edd was shocked and confused at what the captain said. "What do you mean 'Earth-humans'?" He asked suspiciously. "There can't be humans on another planet; it's an evolutionary impossibility!"

Monroe chuckled—however, he seemed afraid he might offend Double D, and he cut himself short with another salute. "Sorry," he said frantically, "I just assumed you three already knew everything."

"Chhk." The Y-alien responded, trilling a chirping sound soon after from its two beaks. Captain Monroe glared at it angrily, not happy with his authority being questioned. Or, perhaps he was unhappy with the horrible joke the alien had just told. It's impossible to tell.

"I know that, Y," Monroe replied, more than a bit testy with the alien's… tone, I guess? "Go back to your… whatever you do in your spare time."

The alien made a strange sign with its hand (Which the Ed's noticed only had two fingers and a thumb) and made its exit. Captain Monroe sighed and looked back to the children.

"You'll have to excuse Y, sirs," he said apologetically and with a quick salute. "She isn't too welcoming to new crew members."

Eddy was about to express his shock that that thing was a female, but Edd cut him off. "If I may ask," he began, surprisingly calm given their situation, "why did you abduct us?"

Captain Monroe seemed surprised. He had to admit that he had no idea why the three children needed to be abducted, but he had been given an important order. The Captain decided it would be best to simply explain who had given that order:

"Well," he explained, "you told me to… sir."

Monroe quickly saluted an utterly baffled Double D.

* * *

LIGHTYEARS away, in a corner of the galaxy unobserved by human eyes, a space-station floated through the cruel void of space. To call it 'phallic' would be an understatement; this vessel looked more like a sex-toy for giants.

_Space_-giants.

That did not bother its inhabitants, nor did the thousands of shuttles flying in and out of various ports in the station. Larger ships were docked outside, clinging magnetically to the phallic symbol's sides. There's a metaphor there, somewhere, but anyone who tries to find it is a pervert.

A _space_-pervert.

Hundreds of screens covered the station, each one advertising some product in an indecipherable language. The language was the same on each screen; a blocky cuneiform in a font so large that passing space-ships could read it.

But who was behind this phallic, billboard-covered waypoint in the far reaches of the galaxy? It was a man—or, rather, a man-looking thing. This thing sat in a sleek, silver office chair at its sleek, silver desk in its sleek, silver office. It wore a black jumpsuit with long tails in the back; clearly whatever passed for business wear in this sector of the galaxy.

This man-thing's name was Crad Zylle; he was head of advertising for one of the quadrant's most successful companies, the Happy Can Company: the Quadrant's Number 1 Supplier of Canned Meat and Canned Meat-like Products (tm.)!

Crad Zylle leaned back in his floating office chair and ran a hand through his head-tentacles. Life was pretty damned sweet. He was coming up with the slogan for Happy Can's latest product. An advertising campaign would sweep the entire quadrant: they'd bought a commercial during the Space-Ball Finals and were sending AdverBots down to every inhabited planet. Everyone would be buying the new product!

But first, Zylle had to come up with a slogan. If a product didn't have a catchy slogan, it was doomed. He had been typing up ideas on his space-computer all day, posting them over an image of a Frellian child slurping down the can's meaty contents. However, inspiration suddenly struck Zylle as he typed up what was clearly the best slogan ever. Carefully, he dragged the words under the new product's name and marveled at his creation:

**MAN-IN-A-CAN:**

**A Taste of Earth **(tm.)**!**

_Damn,_ thought Zylle._ I'm good._

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QUESTIONS ABOUND! What is 'Man-In-A-Can'? How did Edd tell Monroe to abduct him? Why were Kevin and Rolf bitching about the meat of the month club? Will Fernando finally confess his feelings to Isabella? What made Discovery Channel make a documentary like that?!

_A few of those questions will be answered in the next chapter! You know, probably. So read and review, folks!_


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